


Fucking WAFFLES

by Graendoll



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Food Fight, One Shot, Smut, Waffle House, Waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17075612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graendoll/pseuds/Graendoll
Summary: I mean, honestly I just jumped on the waffle bandwagon and I feel like I probably wrote Adam Sackler, but that's okay. Because fucking WAFFLES.





	Fucking WAFFLES

The bell over the door dinged and Rey lazily directed the new customer to sit wherever they wanted and said that she’d be with them in a minute. It was about two thirty in the morning and the place had been full of noisy, drunk college students up until about 15 minutes ago when they all miraculously left as a group. She stood in front of the waffle turner waiting for the light to come on so she could take it out, put it on a plate and throw it someone.

Okay that last part maybe not so much. It was her dinner, after all.

“I want a WAFFLE.” The deep voice directly behind her tripled in volume on the word ‘waffle’ and Rey jumped as she opened the waffle iron. “And some hash browns,” the voice continued “smothered, chunked, peppered and CHOPPED.” She startled again and dropped the waffle and the plate she was about to put it on to the ground with a clang.

“What the fuck, man!” When Rey spun to confront the asshole who made her drop the waffle she was surprised to see a the large male form of Ben Solo hunched over the counter, black locks obscuring his face, and a large grey trench coat stretched across ridiculously broad shoulders. He appeared to still be looking at the menu.

They had the same computer science class at the community college and he was a grade A prick.

“And coffee. With cream.”

“Hey, ASSHOLE.” Rey mimicked his bizarre penchant for shouting random words and he finally looked up at her. She _almost_ regretted her choice of words when she saw his gorgeous eyes and the look of disbelief on his face. Aqualine nose, full lips, beauty marks all over his face – the man was sex on a stick.

It was a shame about his personality.

“Did I look like I was ready for you to rattle off your order?”

“Are you ready now? I’m hungry.”

_So am I, but my dinner is on the floor thanks to you._

She plastered a fake, and hopefully condescending, smile on her face. “Let me just get my pad.”

He looked back down at the menu. “Yeah, because its so fucking complicated.”

Rey narrowed her eyes and poured him a mug of decaf out of spite before returning to where he was sitting at the counter. She plunked the coffee down in front of him aggressively enough to slosh some out, which had him looking back up at her.

“What can I get for you.”

“A fucking WAFFLE. And some hash browns – smothered, chunked, peppered and – “

“Chopped. Got it.” She spun on her heels and went over to the waffle irons where she measured and poured out the waffle batter before moving to the grill and starting on his hash brown order. There was usually a griddle cook for that kind of stuff, but he had gone on break as soon as the college students had left and honestly was probably in the back texting his girlfriend and chain smoking. Rey was more than happy to handle the cooking in his absence, even for this jerk.

After she added the various ingredients to his potatoes, she let them sizzle for a minute before checking on the waffle iron.

“Cream, cream, where the fuck is the cream.”

_Is this guy serious right now?_

Rey grabbed a bowl of creamers from the fridge and barely refrained from throwing it at him. Instead she slid it across the counter in his general direction, taking an absurd amount of glee in the fact that it caught on the menu and wobbled, spilling the containers and allowing several to roll out onto the floor.

“You’re a fucking professional, aren’t you?”

Brandishing the long flat spatula she was using to flip the hash browns, Rey spun with a hand on her hip and met his glare.

“At least I don’t randomly YELL every other WORD like a deranged person.” Satisfied that would shut him up for a while she turned back to what she was doing and slid the potatoes onto a plate. She slammed it down in front of him before pulling the waffle out of the waffle iron. Grabbing butter and syrup with her free hand, she presented him with rest of his food.

He was sitting back in his chair, arms at his side showing off his black t-shirt under the trench coat and appeared to be looking at the food as thought it had managed to personally offend him.

“Anything else?”

“This isn’t what I ordered.”

“What?”

He leaned in and poked at the hashbrowns with a finger. “I ordered smothered, chunked, peppered and chopped.”

Rey looked down at his food. “That’s what those are.”

He looked up at her and pursed his lips.

“These are smothered, _covered_ , peppered and chopped.” His massive hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of hash browns then held them out as if to show her how she’d fucked up. Suspicious, she leaned in to look. Really, given his behavior what he did next should _not_ have surprised her, but it did.

He threw the handful of hash browns at her. _Threw them._ She had hash browns in her _hair._

She blinked in shock.

He shook his hand off nonchalantly, looking down and plucking an onion off the back of his hand when it refused to be flung aside.

Recovering, Rey looked down at the food on the counter between them. She calmly picked up the waffle and, leaning across the counter, slowly smushed it into his chest, smearing and twisting until the thing disintegrated into several pieces and fell into his lap. He looked down in shock and then back up at her with confusion.

“What the fuck did you do that for? There wasn’t anything wrong with the fucking WAFFLE.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Rey picked up the plate of hash browns. “I only fucked up the hash browns?” He stood before she could fling the remaining potatoes at him and grabbed her wrist. Under normal circumstances a customer touching her would totally freak her out but at this point she was too far gone.

This was war.

“Well, now you’ve fucked up the waffle too.” They glared at each other for a moment, and while he was distracted, Rey grabbed the syrup disperser in her other hand. She thought she was being sneaky, but he must have seen her attempt to pour it on his head because he grabbed her other wrist as well. They struggled, and he clearly had the advantage what with being taller than her and not leaning over the counter.

Rey decided to rectify that. Using his grip on her to give her leverage she released the plate of hash browns, to his surprise, and crawled up _onto_ the counter before literally throwing herself at him. The move was so unexpected he tripped, losing his balance, and they tumbled down to the sticky Waffle House floor in a tangle of limbs.

There was some grunting and a few swear words while they both attempted to get their bearings and struggle for dominance. Somehow Rey managed to be on top long enough to fumble the syrup dispenser open and pour a good amount of it in his hair before he flipped her and knocked it out of her hand.

When she looked up she was pinned under an angry, slightly out of breath, huffing Ben Solo who happened to have syrup dripping down his forehead. The sticky substance was causing a slightly hilarious lock of hair to stick straight up and she snorted.

“Looks like you have syrup in your precious hair.”

He glared down at her, but kept her wrists pinned to the floor while he looked around them. Smirking, he yanked her hands together and grabbed them both in one of his enormous mitts, holding them over her head, before he found a half smushed pat of butter on the floor. Impeded by the use of just one hand, he used his teeth to pull the foil away from the soft yellow substance.

His lips were fucking beautiful and she became somewhat enchanted by the movements of his plush mouth before he ruined her mood by slapping the butter onto her cheek, not enough to hurt her, thankfully. If the lopsided grin on his face was any indication, he was clearly taking delight in smearing the butter across her face.

When his fingers moved over her mouth she _may_ have licked them.

His eyebrows went up at that.

“Fuck you, Solo, I like butter.”

He reached his free hand back up to her wrists and leaned over her. “You do?” Her breath hitched at the sultry cadence of his voice and she _may_ have arched into him. Unfortunately, he noticed. “Ah, you do.”

Deciding she’d had enough of lying on the floor and throwing food at the walking train wreck above her, she threw caution to the wind and kissed him. He stilled for a brief moment before his lips began to move against hers. Firm, plump, luscious lips tugging and pressing. High off the aggressive food flinging from earlier, she pressed her tongue into his mouth and he groaned, settling on her, his weight pressing her hips into the hard linoleum as he ground his pelvis into hers. Rey strained under the tight grip he had on her wrists and she felt him smile against her mouth.

“Are we gonna fuck?”

Marginally appalled by the crude question, she glared at him.

“Not on this sticky floor with my ass sitting in your fucking WAFFLE.”

He chuckled.

“You can be on top.”

Before she could respond he released her wrists and began working on her pants, clearly not one for foreplay. Given the size of the hardness that had been rubbing up against her earlier she was more than happy to get down to business, so she took advantage and began working on his fly as well. When they were both free, he wrapped a massive arm around her waist and lifted her up off the sticky floor before rolling onto his back. She shimmied the black Dickies down over her hips while he tugged at his own pants.

God she really hoped no one came in to see her half naked, covered in food and getting ready to fuck the worlds biggest prick she knew.

Literally and figuratively.

“Holy shit, how do you walk?”

He palmed the back of her head and pulled her in for a kiss instead of answering her while she kicked her pants off one leg, giving her enough maneuverability to straddle his hips. His other hand reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass, squeezing almost enough to hurt, before reaching to palm his cock and line it up at her entrance.

“Damn, Niima, you’re wet. Fighting turn you on?”

“Obviously.”

He moved the thick head of his erection back and forth over her wet lips before pressing into her. Groaning at the stretch, Rey pushed down, reveling in the feel of him as she sank down until her ass met his thighs.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He hissed.

Rey grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as she began to move, sliding up and down while rotating her hips. As she found her rhythm he began to thrust up to meet her at each movement until she was whining and mewling with each slap of flesh.

“That’s it, you fucking waffle WENCH. Ride me.”

“Fuck you.” Rey gasped as he hit her cervix, releasing her grip on his t-shirt to run her hands under it, scraping up his stomach and chest with her finger nails.

“Yes, God, just like that, FUCK.”

His hands gripped her hips and he took over completely, fucking up into her with so much force she collapsed onto his chest. The tightness in her abdomen began to grow, as he repeatedly hit that spot inside her that had her drooling.

“Are you close?” He whispered in her ear and her only response was a whimper because she _was_. Because this bizarre session of hate sex with the asshole who threw food at her was fucking amazing. He seemed to understand, because his hand snaked in between them and he found her clit. A few quick flicks and she felt herself seize as her orgasm rushed over her. Her fists clenched in his hair and she bit down on his collar bone as the pulses moved through her.

“Fucking – ow – fuck!” He grunted as he thrust one last time, clenching around her hips with so much force she knew she’d bruise, before collapsing back onto the floor with a groan.

A few moments of heavy breathing was shared before Rey lifted her head to look down at the man who’d she’d just fucked _at work_ , on the _floor_ , in plain view of _anyone_ who might walk in for a waffle. His head was resting in the remnants of the hash browns that started it all, and there was still syrup on his face, but he was looking up at her with a devoted smile and she couldn’t help but smile back even if she was mostly confused about what just happened.

“You’re covered in butter.”

“I like butter.”

“I know.”

He sat up, keeping her on his lap even though he slid out of her and she felt a trickle of wetness follow, and ran a thumb over her cheek. She leaned into his hand before she knew what she was doing and he kissed her softly, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth.

“What time do you get out of here?”

“My shift ends at three, so about twenty minutes.” Rey adjusted herself in his lap wondering where he was going with this and thinking she should probably put her pants back on in case a customer came in.

“You know,” he started, “I have a ton of food at my place. We could try this again with left over Chinese if you want.”

She studied his face. “Are you asking me out?”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

“Yeah. But you have to feed me, because that first waffle that I dropped because of your freaky yelling? That was my dinner.”

“It’s a deal.”

And they sealed it with a syrupy, buttery, kiss.

 

 

 

 


End file.
